


wake in a better place

by smallredboy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Aaron Burr, Gay James Madison, Gen, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, Minor Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Religious Discussion, Stoner James Madison, this fic is a lot, william paterson choke and die challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Aaron Burr is a sixteen-year-old college freshman, and he gets to be dormmates with James Madison, and is met with a new world.





	wake in a better place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [washingtononyourside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/washingtononyourside/gifts).



> pwease read the tags... this fic is kinda heavy at times
> 
> late christmas gift for moonz!!! they made a post about a burrmads college au a while back and i wrote them this.... i snapped yall
> 
> merry christmas moonz!
> 
> enjoy!

He knows; deep down, he’s always known.

There’s the soft pitter-patter of the rain outside, and there’s the lamplight of James staying up to study for his first final, and there’s the unforgiving guilt playing him. He used to drag himself into church behind his uncle— to honor the memory of your grandfather, he said again and again until it rung in his ears, until Aaron dragged himself into the confessional with the well-known fear of Hell.

The priest was a nice man if he remembers correctly— tall, threatening, but a nice man. At least to him— he tries not to think about the way some other kids looked scared of him too much. He doesn’t want to believe he was lucky about a decade ago but he wasn’t now.

He and James have only been roommates for about a semester— he’s a freshman, he’s younger than everyone here. James is a prodigy, overworked and tired and a Madison, so they let him be in his dorm. There was something or other about James asking to have a new roommate, but Aaron doesn’t remember details.

He swallows around whatever’s stuck in his throat— he remembers Bellamy, being fourteen and stupid and staring at his best friend’s lips.

He closes his eyes and turns on his bed. “James?”   


He closes his book. “Yes?”   
  
“I think I like men.”   


James stays silent, and he freezes, trying to understand how his heart beats faster than his own thoughts. There’s footsteps and James kneels next to his bed, looking at him with this knowing look he doesn’t know what to say to.

“I asked for a new roommate because the old one beat me up when he found out I’m gay.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and— he knows neither of them is big on physical contact— but James still hugs him, and he resists to let the tears flow. 

It’s a quiet understanding, and it works.

* * *

“What are you doing here?”

Aaron doesn’t stand up from his position, hands still clasped together, his knees still against the hard wood of the kneelers in the pews. But he turns to him. 

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I was raised Christian too,” he says, kneeling next to him, his brows knitted together.

“But you’ve never gone to the chapel here.”   


James cocks a brow at him. “I don’t feel the need to.”   


He draws in a breath. “Am I that obvious?”   
  
“Yes.”   


Aaron rolls his eyes before closing them, focusing on doing what he knows best, reciting verses and prayers he barely knows the meaning of.

“I had my own copy of the Bible when I was fifteen or so, when I was in Virginia with my parents.”

Aaron doesn’t open his eyes, but tilts his head towards him.

“I scribbled all over it, notes and question marks and parts highlighted.”   
  
“What about…  _ the  _ part?” He pauses for a second. “The part in Leviticus.”   


He can feel James deflate, even if he doesn’t open his eyes to see him.

“Scribbled over in black marker.”

Aaron manages a smile, and opens his eyes.

“I only had my grandfather’s Bible. Never ‘desecrated’ it.”   


James kneels next to him, and then coughs a little.

“You good?”   
  
“Yeah.”

Aaron closes his eyes again, and he can hear James mouthing the words to the Lord’s Prayer next to him.

* * *

It takes a while for James to pick up on the signs.

Aaron watches with nervous eyes as James rolls up a blunt, as James talks about getting high without a care for the effect he calls ‘loss of inhibition’. Aaron keeps quiet about the class he has with T.A. William Paterson. James talks about his family and Aaron wears oversized shirts so there’s no way he sees old marks.

“You’re late,” James tells him when he takes thirty minutes more than anyone else to come back from ECON to his dorm.

“T.A. held me up,” he says, tucking his shirt back in. It’s not a lie.

James looks at him and starts rolling a blunt— he almost offers it to him, and then starts chuckling. “I forgot you’re sixteen!”   


Aaron rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t want it anyway.”   
  
“Weed Isn't bad, you know?”   
  
“Sounds bad.”   
  
“What? Why?”   
  
He makes air quotes, “Loss of inhibition.”   
  
“You wanna be a stuck-up bitch every waking moment?”   
  
He scoffs and elbows him. “Like you’re any better.”   
  
“Good point.” He takes a hit. “Relaxing isn’t bad, you know?”   
  
“Loss of inhibition means being relaxed and pliant and…” he falls quiet. There’s a distaste in his eyes, a worry in between his lips, resting on his teeth.

James blinks. “And what?”   
  
“And usable,” he says. He stands up and reaches for his Economics textbook, opening it in a random page. The words look like an incomprehensible jumble, but all he needs right now is a distraction from the fact he told James that.

“And usable,” he echoes. “Aaron, do you—”   
  
“No.”   


“Have you been—”   
  
“James, no.”   


“ _ Aaron _ .”

He heads out the door, the Economics book still in his hands, them shaking just a little. He closes his eyes and leans against the door before turning to James. The silence drag on, and James’ eyes aren’t red, and his brows are knitted together.

“Yes,” he says. He turns back. “It’s Paterson. Now let me uh, calm down—” He closes the door behind himself.

James doesn’t follow him, and when he comes back an hour later the silence is comfortable.

He ends up cuddling against James, as James rambles aimlessly about the Mayans and the stars and the Egyptians and how vast the history of humanity is. He falls asleep curled up next to his stoned roommate.

* * *

Aaron storms into the dorm, his heart racing.

“Where is he?”   
  
James doesn’t look up from his book. “In jail, hopefully.”   
  
“I told you not to fucking tell—”   
  
“I can’t be helping you breakdown after breakdown, nightmare after nightmare!” 

“They’re going to know it was me! There will be even more shame to the Burr—”   
  
“Aaron, your family doesn’t fucking matter!” 

It’s like thunder falls down on Aaron, and he goes stiff, his shoulders tense and his lip trembling. James looks at him and stands up, leaving his book on the counter before stepping closer to him, weighing the pros and cons of every single step.

“Hey,” James says softly, a feet and a half in between them. “Your family name doesn’t matter. My father left when he found out I’m gay, your uncle is terrible, your grandfather made you memorize Bible quotes when you were five.” He pauses and offers him a hand. “What matters is you, Aaron. The family you choose, not the one blood dictates for you.”   


“I told you not to tell,” he croaks out.

“I know.” A long pause that stretches on forever. “But I had to. I can’t stand seeing a friend be miserable like this.”   


Aaron tilts his head back and draws in a breath. “Can I…?”   
  
“Hey, no need to ask,” he says, putting his arms around him and hugging him tight.

He lets himself relax for once, lets himself close his eyes.

* * *

Aaron gets closer to James.

It’s natural, really — he’s the only person who knows about what’s going on with Paterson. There’s a quiet promise of not telling anybody else, as much as it’s obvious James wants to scream that he needs to tell someone. That he needs to have Paterson behind bars.

He hates the way people look at them, like they’re something dirty— James is a secret everyone knows about, a secret his father damned and his mother cried about. But Aaron— well, if he’s this close to a gay man it must be for a reason, right?

It doesn’t last; the dirty looks just being dirty looks doesn’t last.

He gets yelled at, called a good-for-nothing fag, and he sucks it up. It’s words he’s repeated at himself many times whenever he caught himself thinking about his best friend— words he’s been confused by because he likes women, too.

Until it becomes physical; it’s a new territory he isn’t familiar with.

He finds himself pushed into a wall, his head tipping back into it, and there’s a punch and then another.    


“Fucking fag,” the upperclassman breathes, kneeing him on the stomach as blood oozes off his nose. It all hurts, and he swears he can see Paterson from the corner of his eye, not moving a muscle.

“Keep being a shame to your family, suck Madison’s dick, you faggot, you fairy—”

He lets him down and leaves; the hallway is lined empty, and he can see Paterson fiddle with his cigarette pack as he coughs and dry heaves, his cheeks throbbing and his nose still bleeding. 

Minutes pass for what seems like decades, years, and he manages to stop bleeding, still retching and shaking. Before much time can pass, though, there’s rushed footsteps and someone kneeling next to him.

It’s James— of course it’s James. “Aaron! What happened?”   
  
He helps him stand up, and his legs are a little wobbly. “Some guy called me a faggot and uh, told me to suck your dick.”

James’ eyes widen and he immediately wraps his arms around Aaron’s frame, hugging him like he’ll disappear into thin air if he doesn’t.

“Aaron, I would never touch you.” There’s the unspoken because I’m twenty-one, and you’re sixteen, you’re a child, you’re a child, so defenseless and innocent— 

The empty vial he knows as his heart shakes furiously. “I know,” he whispers.

He’s dragged back into their dorm, and James says something or another about letting a friend of his check up on him. She’s studying in a nearby med school, he explains, her name is Dolley Payne and she’s ‘a treasure’.

Dolley is a tall woman, her hair short and her arms toned. She’s beautiful, Aaron can give her that, as she checks his bruises and his nose.

“He broke it,” she informs him, and Aaron’s brows knit together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you know who hit you?”   
  
“An upperclassman,” he replies, shrugging. “I wasn’t too sure— I think he’s in my ECON class.”

“You should check,” Dolley says, pressing ice next to the throbbing bruise. “This is worthy of him getting kicked out. It’s what he deserves.”   
  
Aaron manages a weak smile and meets Dolley’s eye. “Well thank you for your kindness.” He falls into this like it’s a routine, and Dolley has a bit of highlighter on her brown cheeks and she’s pretty. “Wanna go out for lunch sometime?”   


Dolley laughs, which is unexpected, and James’ lips tremble in amusement, too.

“I’m gay, Aaron.”   


“Oh,” he mutters, ducking his head, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, Jem told me about how much of a baby bi you are.” She whips her head to meet James, staring him down. She must be about five inches taller than him. “Platonic, gay-lesbian solidarity lunch?”   
  
“Of course,” James says, leaning against her. “Wanna join in as bi solidarity, Aaron?”   


Aaron swallows, and nods.

“I might invite Angie too, that’s okay, right?”   
  
Aaron realizes how much of his social life Paterson and his studies have sucked away when he asks, “Who is she?”   


“Angelica Schuyler, she’s studying Journalism, she’s fucking badass. She’s a year above Jemmy here.”   


James grins. “Angelica is fucking great, you should definitely invite her.” He turns to Aaron, and his smile weakens a bit. “It’s alright, right?”   
  
“Yeah.”   


* * *

Angelica is a nice woman, a hijab wrapped around her head and a nice smile on her lips. She’s full of a knowledge Aaron thinks he doesn’t compare to, can’t compare to. She tells jokes that make the entire table shake with laughter, and she tells on the latest gossip with people none of the other three know about.

They’re all eating when Angelica breaks the ice once again.

“Have you all heard anything about Paterson, that Economics TA? I haven’t seen him around.”   


Aaron freezes solid, and James grabs his hand and squeezes beneath the table, reminding him that it’s okay, it’s okay. The physical contact grounds him, even if for just a few moments.

Dolley shrugs. “I dunno, he just suddenly disappeared one day. A friend of mine told me he saw him be arrested, but he seemed pretty nice, I don’t think—” she falls silent when Angelica obviously grows distracted by the fact Aaron is shaking like a leaf next to them.

He seemed pretty nice. The words echo in his head over and over, and the drumming in his brain grows louder and louder and he can’t stand it, can’t bring himself to think or speak or even breathe.

“Aaron,” Angelica says softly. “Are you okay?”   
  
“Tap twice if I can tell them,” James whispers.

Aaron taps once, and struggles. His hands are shaking and he wants them to know so he can’t hear Paterson be praised, but what if they think it was his fault what if they think what if they think—

Aaron taps a second time and manages to zone out as James explains, seeing the horrified looks in Dolley and Angelica’s faces. Angelica talks about her high school teacher who was creepy as hell, and Dolley talks about her older brother, and James is so, so oddly quiet it almost scares him.

“Thanks, guys,” he says shakily when they finish their food, as he gets ready to leave.

“Anytime,” Angelica says, smiling at him. “Call me if you need anything, alright?”   
  
He can’t promise he’ll call, so he nods.   

* * *

“Stop that.”

Aaron’s head whips up at the unfamiliar voice; he’s met by a taller man with an overgrown beard and dark eyes and curls let free.

“Stop what?”   
  
“Just ‘cuz you’re Princeton’s prodigy doesn’t mean you need to study yourself to death. Let loose a little.”   
  
He blinks and closes the book he’s reading. “Do I know you?”   
  
“I know Jemmy.” He offers him his hand. “Thomas Jefferson, it’s a pleasure.”   


“You study here? I thought I’d have heard of a Jefferson.”   


“Nah.” He smiles at him as he shakes his hand. “I’m still in my home state, Virginia. Just visitin’ my old friend Jemmy; he’s told me all about you.”

Aaron freezes a little. “Told you all about me?”   
  
“Yeah. You’re a Burr and you’re a precocious genius and you are too stuck up to try weed.”

He relaxes and manages a smile before James rushes to their dorm, pulling Thomas inside.

“Hey, dude! It’s been ages, how you been?”

“It’s been alright! There’s this guy in my college and he’s mad annoying, he’s from like, South Carolina, God I just wanna punch him in the face—”   
  
“What’d the man ever do to you?”   
  
“He’s a Laurens! And he won’t stop talkin’ about his long-distance boyfriend, I’m sure he doesn’t even exist!”

James rolls his eyes and turns to Aaron, raising a brow before looking back at Thomas. “You talked?”   
  
Aaron shrugs. “A little.”   
  
“You feel excluded?”   
  
“I’m studying, James,” he replies, opening his book back up.

“Let’s go grab lunch,” Thomas says, pulling James out of the dorm.

James gives Aaron an exasperated look and closes the door behind himself.

* * *

“I’m going to Dolley’s dorm,” Aaron says when James and Thomas walk in, James leaning against him, hands brushing together.

“Why?” Thomas asks, cocking his head.

“I think it’s obvious I don't want to see you two fuck. I might be mostly over my internalized homophobia but not that much.”   


James laughs and leans up to kiss Thomas’ cheek. “How’d you know we’re together?”   
  
“I have an impeccable gaydar,” Aaron deadpans as he gets up and grabs his books.

Thomas stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We weren’t going to fuck.”

James raises a brow.

“Okay, we sort of were. But we could maybe have a movie marathon?”   
  
“I’ll fall asleep half a movie in, just a warning,” Aaron says as he sets his books down and heads to the small thing they call a living room. He sits down and reaches for a blanket; he hands the rest of it to James and huddles up next to him.

“That’s alright, darlin,” Thomas drawls.

James elbows him as Thomas turns Netflix on.

Aaron is happy to remember that he has Economics class the next day, and he’s even happier at the lack of dread and fear that follows.  


End file.
